Chapter 188

               

“Y-yes?”

The atmosphere in the operating room froze instantly.

The mood of an OR rose and fell with the lead surgeon—and after something that sounded basically like an insult came out of his mouth, freezing was the only natural outcome.

“P-professor…….”

Jang-mi, one of the few who could speak up to Kang-hyuk, called to him.

Her voice was quiet, but the weight behind it was anything but.

“Just wait. He said something ridiculous.”

It seemed to have some effect—Kang-hyuk’s tone softened slightly.

Though from the perspective of a first-year resident, the difference was negligible.

He was still angry with him.

“A liver tore. Sure, that can happen.”

Still operating, Kang-hyuk continued speaking while looking at Jun-hyuk.

Jun-hyuk was trembling even more than before, making the surgical field a mess.

But it didn’t hinder Kang-hyuk.

He was one of the few who could perform lung surgery with nothing more than a barely opened window.

“And that part is your fault.”

“Y-yes…… so…….”

“But the patient dying? That’s not your fault.”

Jang-mi glanced toward him, realizing that “it’s not your fault” could sound utterly terrifying depending on who said it.

Kang-hyuk was unleashing his full skill—talking at length while operating at high speed.

As his scrub nurse, she couldn’t afford even a moment of distraction.

“Here.”

“Good.”

She had to constantly hand him whatever he needed—or might need next.

‘How can a human do two things at the same time…….’

Even as a veteran nurse, she was struggling to keep up with his pace.

Meanwhile, Jae-won—who was considered the most improved among her peers—was still only cutting the scalp. He hadn’t even picked up the drill yet.

Was it because he was slow?

Absolutely not.

One glance at Ji-min’s flustered expression told the story.

“Clean that area. No, no—that part was cauterized already.”

“Yes, doctor. Sorry, it’s my first time assisting…….”

“It’s fine. It’s not a critical area.”

“Thank you…….”

Thankfully, Jae-won was unusually gentle for a lead surgeon.

If he wasn’t, he’d have scolded her already.

Though compared to what would happen if Kang-hyuk was the primary? A little scolding wouldn’t even count.

“Do you understand what I meant? That it wasn’t your fault the patient died.”

“Uh…….”

While Jang-mi briefly looked at Jae-won, Kang-hyuk had already ligated the bronchus and vessels feeding the damaged lung.

Which meant half the surgery was already over.

Now he had the luxury of turning fully toward Jun-hyuk—his terrifying eyes locking onto him.

“Uh…….”

Jun-hyuk’s entire body stiffened.

Even Jae-won, who had spent a good amount of time under Kang-hyuk, found that gaze hard to withstand.

For Jun-hyuk—a mere first-year—it was crushing.

“B-but…….”

And yet, he had run away once already.

He had refused surgery altogether.

Because of that, he could move his lips now.

“So…… it wasn’t my fault? Even though the graft tore?”

“Didn’t you study while you were on the transplant rotation?”

“Sir?”

“What does a torn liver have to do with graft failure?”

Kang-hyuk removed the entire collapsed lobe, fully separating it from the bronchus and vessels.

Thanks to that, the heart—which had been compressed badly due to the atelectasis—returned to normal position.

Kyung-won, seeing the ECG rhythm improve dramatically, gave an OK signal.

Kang-hyuk smiled at him, then turned back to Jun-hyuk.

“I…… learned that if the transplanted organ fails…… it leads to graft failure…….”

“Hmm.”

No medical school taught students that.

Students learned common diseases and dangerous ones that could mimic them—not niche transplant failure mechanisms.

And he hadn’t been in surgery long enough to learn it here either.

“Did you study that alone?”

As he asked, Kang-hyuk tapped and closed the incision he had created.

From the back, someone might think, ‘He’s operating carelessly.’

Talking while closing.

But up close, the thought wouldn’t even occur.

His sutures were flawless—beautiful even.

He accounted for muscle fiber direction, something most surgeons never bothered with.

The clean incision made it possible.

Regardless, it was stunning skill.

“Y-yes, I studied on my own.”

Jun-hyuk couldn’t appreciate any of that.

He was too busy cutting sutures when instructed.

“A first-year…… studying alone.”

In March, no less.

That wasn’t something most could do.

He must have sacrificed a lot of sleep.

‘That was me once.’

Kang-hyuk recalled his own first year.

After losing his father in an accident, he’d finally reached the moment he dreamed of his whole life.

Joy turned to desperation.

He pushed himself endlessly to become a real surgeon as fast as possible.

He struggled with the same doubts now plaguing Jun-hyuk.

‘A first-year…… in a hospital, you’re basically dust.’

It wasn’t an insult—just fact.

A first-year was limited by nature.

Even the most gifted couldn’t actually function as a surgeon yet.

Medicine wasn’t mere memorization—it was an applied science.

Self-study only took you so far.

It was admirable, but not necessarily wise.

“Aren’t you a first-year?”

“Y-yes, professor.”

“Then why study alone? Are your seniors scarecrows?”

“That…….”

Jun-hyuk was too intimidated to answer properly.

Still, Kang-hyuk kept talking.

Not only to him, but to every trainee listening.

And perhaps to his younger self as well.

“Do you know where you are?”

“T-the OR?”

“No. I mean the place as a whole.”

“Um…….”

A difficult question.

The scope wasn’t defined.

Fortunately, Kang-hyuk wasn’t really expecting an answer.

He just wanted an opening to say what he needed to say.

“This is a university hospital.”

“Ah…….”

“Which means it’s an educational institution.”

People thought university hospitals were just big general hospitals.

Even professors thought that way.

But they were training grounds.

Places meant to produce outstanding clinicians like the ones operating now.

Residents weren’t supposed to be treated like cheap labor—they were supposed to be taught.

‘Though…… it’s not really his fault he didn’t think so.’

Among all university hospitals in the country, almost none had proper training curricula for residents.

Everyone was drowning in work.

Education had fallen by the wayside.

It became common to assume learning happened naturally while working.

But common didn’t equal right.

And Kang-hyuk wasn’t someone who tolerated what was wrong.

“You’re a first-year. You’re supposed to learn—you’re not supposed to study alone. First-years know too little for independent study to be efficient. That’s why you absorbed wrong information like what you just said.”

“Ah…….”

“A first-year killing a patient because of a mistake? Impossible. And unacceptable. If a hospital lets a first-year handle something that could kill a patient, that’s the hospital’s fault—not the first-year’s.”

You couldn’t entrust life-and-death responsibilities to someone who barely knew anything.

“Graft failure usually happens because the connected artery or vein thromboses. Sometimes it’s due to organ defects, but…… you know how strict pre-op screening is here.”

“T-then…… it wasn’t my fault……?”

“Of course not. Isn’t it ridiculous? A liver transplant destabilized by a first-year’s mistake? Maybe if you dropped the liver on the floor.”

If that happened, self-blame would be warranted.

But a partial tear?

A first-year blaming themselves for that?

Ridiculous.

“Know your place.”

Kang-hyuk had already finished the closure.

He slowly walked toward the head, where Jae-won was operating.

“This place doesn’t tolerate mistakes.”

Which was why people here aged so fast.

“And yet—there’s an exception.”

He stood behind Jae-won.

Gulp.

Jae-won, who had been operating smoothly, swallowed hard.

Anticipating the reaction, Kang-hyuk smiled faintly and looked at Jun-hyuk.

“First-years are allowed to make mistakes. You can’t repeat them—but the first mistake? There’s no reason to blame yourself. Because you’re a first-year.”

“Ah…….”

It echoed the words his own mentor had once told him, when he was drowning in guilt.

He never imagined he’d repeat them so naturally one day.

‘I really did become a professor, didn’t I.’

He felt a rare moment of deep emotion.

Meanwhile, Jun-hyuk was sinking into the same emotion Kang-hyuk once felt—only years younger.

There was only one word that fit.

Freedom.

‘Right…… I’m nothing.’

A first-year was nothing in the massive machine called a university hospital.

But that wasn’t something to despair over.

It was natural.

Someday, he would become something.

As long as he remained part of the machine, it would happen eventually.

“What are you doing? I said first-years can make mistakes, not that they can slack off.”

Kang-hyuk motioned toward him.

Then he nudged Jae-won aside with his hip.

“Today’s surgery will be hard. Both of you assist.”